


Post modern Looking Glass

by Xequinn



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xequinn/pseuds/Xequinn
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Kudos: 9
Collections: X-Files Episode Fanfic Exchange (2019)





	Post modern Looking Glass

Date: Wed, 30 Nov 2005 10:25:09 -0500 (EST)  
Subject: Post Modern Looking Glass by Xequinn  
Source: direct

Post-Modern Looking Glass by Xequinn

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, just love to write about them!!  
Rating: NC-17 for sexual content  
This was for a challenge to write a piece on Post modern Prometheus -- Season 5  


Enjoy!!!

I have always thought of myself as a confident person, but one whose  
confidence is strengthened only when a particular pursuit is endorsed  
by a male role model.

In my life, at every crossroads, I was led by the hand, in  
veritably, by a man, down a path, that I may not have chosen on my  
own.

I know that this may seem a contradiction in principle, but I assure  
you it is not.  
My confidence has led me to excel in each and every path chosen for  
me by someone that I admired, trusted and loved.

At fourteen, while embarking on the journey of discovering the  
mysteries of the sacrament of confirmation, Father McCue taught me the  
grace of womanhood, of what I was meant to be as a woman, a wife, a  
mother. I accepted that and emulated the virtues of Mary, the Virgin  
Mother, quite successfully. Too successfully! I realized I would  
either be married at a young age, as evidenced by the number of  
suitors that courted me from our Parrish, or I would become a nun,  
Sister Mary Dana. I chose neither.

And then at twenty one, after graduating University with honours, my  
father suggested that I might be successful in the field of medicine.  
Another crossroad, another path chosen for me.

I loved the challenge of med school, the discoveries and newness of  
true adulthood.  
One of my discoveries was that I was not as virtuous as I thought. I  
discovered passion in the arms of an older man. A professor of mine  
that I absolutely adored, the sun rose and set at his command. Dr  
Daniel Waterston, another male mentor, unlike any other, he respected  
my opinions, thought that I was intelligent enough to spark debate  
with on any medical discoveries or innovations that we used as case  
studies. The problem was that these invigorating repartees always  
came to a climax the same, with us, in my apartment, tousling like  
wild animals.  
It was the single most passionate phase of my life, but I knew that  
it couldn't last, after all he was married and I was the proverbial  
"other woman".

Then one day close to graduation, when all of my classmates were  
finalizing which hospital to pursue their residency, I accepted  
recruitment to the FBI as a forensic pathologist.  
My father was livid!  
I had strayed from his vision!  
Daniel was livid!  
He accused me of running from him.  
I didn't care.  
For the first time that I could remember I had chosen my own path,  
my own direction to turn on the crossroad.  
So, you see.... Confidence.

Then I met Fox Mulder. An unlikely mentor I admit, but definitely  
one that commanded my respect and loyalty as none other had before.  
Seconds into our first meeting we participated in a heated quid pro  
quo of possible scenarios into a series of unexplained deaths.

My pulse raced, my skin grew flushed and damp and I could tell that  
my eyes were sparkling with the excitement of the verbal race that we  
had unwittingly commenced.

This man was not what I had expected. Mr. Spooky Mulder wasn't  
spooky at all, he just used his above average intelligence in  
overdrive, thinking outside the box and damn near stumping any and  
every one too slow to catch on!

The trouble was, I caught on. I matched wits with him form the get  
go. I was in trouble, I knew it. Here was a man who challenged me at  
every turn. I had to learn to draw a line very quickly in our new  
relationship, because Mr. Mulder was very flirtatious. Oh yeah, hands  
on flirtatious. I had to remind myself that this man was my partner  
and a senior officer. No crossing the line this time. I had to be  
strong.

The trouble with having such strong convictions is that it has to  
find a release somehow, and my subconscious was my sweet release.  
Night after night I was assaulted by dreams of Mulder. Not innocent  
dreams of holding hands and skipping down the lane to happily ever  
after, noooo, but torrid dreams, hot sweaty dreams of bodies writhing  
in the sheets, bucking so enthusiastically that we'd fall on the floor  
kinda dreams. So every day I'd wake up more frustrated than the last  
and then I'd be an itch with a b to work with, all pissy and snooty,  
hence the moniker Ice Queen.

I went through an actual "I hate Mulder" phase. It didn't last long  
though, I mean it couldn't really, because I realized that I had gone  
and fallen in love with him.

Now five years into our partnership, it has all gone to hell. The  
charade of a platonic relationship gets thinner daily. Strangers  
comment on the way we look at each other, our ASAC regularly calls us  
into his office to covertly uncover a change in our 'working'  
relationship. I'm getting tired. The dreams have evolved from a wild  
affair to a serious relationship. My wall is crumbling, and fantasy is  
bleeding through into reality.

So here we are now on an investigating claims that a woman has been  
impregnated by an intruder, monster, whatever, with two mouths and a  
lumpy head.

I mentally roll my eyes as I read the case file in our standard  
issue rental car, well on our way to the small town.  
He knows me so well. There was no way that I would have agreed to  
take this case had I read the 302 before leaving Washington. Wouldn't  
you know that the file mysteriously vanishes when he announces yet  
another road trip but then makes a miraculous appearance once we have  
left the state?

Anyway, ever the skeptic, I had my doubts that Shaineh Berkowitz was  
indeed pregnant, I needed proof, so sue me.

So once again in the car heading back to the motel after what I  
think of as a wasted, although intriguing day, I am perusing the files  
on Shaineh's medical history. "I have to admit Mulder, everything  
looks in order. Mrs. Berkowitz had a tubal ligation in 1993 and two  
months ago she had two pregnancy tests both with positive results."

Mulder abruptly stops the car and reverses up the road that we had  
just passed on.

"What are you doing?" I can't help it, every once in a while I ask  
stupidly inane questions.

"Mrs. Berkowitz said in her letter that when she saw her intruder  
there was a gaseous white cloud and then when she woke up three days  
later, nobody knew that she'd been gone."

"Yeah, so?" did I mention that my desire for this man is seriously  
inhibiting my intelligence?

He stops the car and I finally notice a large tent covered house.  
Then I realize that we may be able to catch the perp in action.

We get out and run to the entrance, Mulder taking point while I ran  
around to the back.

As I enter the house I am assaulted by Cher blaring through the  
house:

I WAS BORN IN THE WAGON OF A TRAVELIN' SHOW  
MY MAMA USED TO DANCE FOR THE MONEY THEY'D THROW  
PAPA WOULD DO WHATEVER HE COULD  
PREACH A LITTLE GOSPEL  
SELL A COUPLE BOTTLES OF DOCTOR GOOD

I pull my gun and head up the stairs.

GYPSIES, TRAMPS AND THIEVES  
WE'D HEAR IT FROM THE PEOPLE OF THE TOWN  
THEY CALLED US

GYPSIES, TRAMPS AND THIEVES  
BUT EVERY NIGHT ALL THE MEN WOULD COME AROUND  
AND LAY THEIR MONEY DOWN.

As I rounded the corner of what must be the most dizzying home décor  
ever, with silk flowers lining every wall like wallpaper, I hear  
someone cough.

The smoke that fills the air is stinging my eyes and burning my nose  
and throat.  
I suppress my own urge to cough so that I don't give away my  
position to the intruder.

I enter the bedroom and see a woman unconscious in the bed, with a  
sheet draped over her. I cautiously edge closer to the bed when I hear  
coughing coming from the other side of the bed not quite visible to  
me.

I start coughing, trying to draw a full breath, "Come on" I shout  
"Get up! Move!"

Gasping and coughing, Mulder stands up from where he has fallen  
beside the bed.

"Mulder?" I make my way around to him, while he uses the bed as a  
prop to stand.

It is getting harder and harder to breathe without coughing. I get  
my arm around him, providing what little support that I could and we  
make it to the foot of the bed, coughing all the way, before I feel  
light-headed and we both collapse.

"God Mulder, I love you!" I sucked on his neck as he surged into me  
in a final drive to climax. He pulls out of me and rests on my chest  
and kisses me along my chest and neck.  
"Scully, marry me," he whispers into my chest. "Yes, Mulder, yes," I  
whisper back to him, stroking his sweaty hair off is forehead. I reach  
down and kiss his sweet lips. "We could make this work, we could have  
the X-files and we could be married and we could start a family, we  
could have it all." I feel his body shudder as giggles erupt from him  
in a decided un-manly manner. "What's so damn funny?" I grouse at him  
and then join him in the joy of the moment. Laughter soon fell to the  
wayside as my amorous lover was once again full and ready to go, he  
rose up on his elbows and latched on to my lips while simultaneously  
grabbed my hips and drove into me in one powerful stroke. I was going  
to be so sore in the morning, but what a lovely suffering it would be.  
I loved how masterfully he moved, so confident in his art. I feel my  
body tightening in anticipation of sweet release. I'm coming again, a  
true test of his prowess and skill. My breath hitches, I struggle to  
breathe, he's stolen  
my breath along with my heart. Everything that is me is now his,...  
why can't I breathe?'

I suck in a deep breath and a rash of coughing overtakes me. I hear  
an answering cough in Mulder as we both wake. I'm immediately take in  
our positioning as we lay on the floor; our heads are mere inches  
apart, our hands almost touching. It's the way that we are always  
repose sated in my dreams.

"What are you doing in my house?" I hear and angry voice growl above  
us.

Dr. Pollidori, Mulder's "Dr. Frankenstein", has returned from a  
weekend seminar to find his wife, Elizabeth, in bed and two FBI agents  
unconscious at the foot of his bed,  
God, I am so embarrassed. A common occurrence since I've been  
working with Mulder.

One of the officers, yes there was more than one witness to Dana  
Scully's most embarrassing moment, gave me a hand and helped me up.  
As I stood a little unsteadily on my feet, I took an inventory of my  
appearance. My hair is seriously tousled, my sweater has been pulled  
out of my pants, my lips are bruised and there is a definite ache  
between my legs. 'What the hell is going on here?'

I take an inventory of Mulder's appearance and he was a little worse  
for wear as well.  
In fact, he looked as terrible as I felt, as if we were on an all  
night drinking binge.  
He catches my eye and moves toward me a little unsteady on his feet.  
'Scully..." he reached out to touch me and I took an instinctive step  
back. A flash of hurt crossed over his face and I immediately  
regretted my cowardice. I looked at him again, really looked at him  
and realized that he knows my dreams, he's shared it. I see the  
question in his eyes, 'how is this possible, how did we do that?'

We were brought back to the present by the murmurings of Mrs.  
Pollidori; we silently agree that we'd discuss this later, when the  
case is over.

Every once in a while, very often in fact, I am reminded of why I  
love Mulder.

After we had found our monster, a very intelligent young man with  
facial deformities created by the one and only Dr "Frankenstein'  
Pollidori, Mulder was not at all satisfied with the conclusion of this  
case.

We head a convoy of cars in hot pursuit of a Cher concert, with  
Malcolm in the backseat.  
I was relieved that we weren't alone in the car...yet. I could feel  
Mulder looking at me ever so often. I would look at him and then he'd  
look at me. The journey home is going to be a long one.

*********

CHER

PUT ON MY BLUE SUEDE SHOES AND I BOARDED THE PLANE TOUCHED DOWN IN  
THE LAND OF THE DELTA BLUES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE POURING RAIN W.C.  
HANDY WON'T YOU LOOK DOWN OVER ME?  
CHER:  
PUT ON MY BLUE SUEDE SHOES AND I BOARDED THE PLANE TOUCHED DOWN IN  
THE LAND OF THE DELTA BLUES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE POURING RAIN W.C.  
HANDY WON'T YOU LOOK DOWN OVER ME?  
YEAH, I GOT A FIRST-CLASS TICKET BUT I'M AS BLUE AS A GIRL CAN BE

WHEN I'M WALKING IN MEMPHIS I'M WALKING WITH MY FEET TEN FEET OFF OF  
BEALE  
I watch placidly as Malcolm dances enthusiastically to Cher, his  
obvious enjoyment calming some of the butterflies in my stomach.  
Cher sings only for him it seems, and glides to our table to take him  
with her on the stage. A magical night for Malcolm I'm sure. A grin  
flits briefly across my face, a grin that turns to surprise as my view  
of Cher and our charge is blocked by my partner, who is standing with  
his arm extended towards me.

I reach out to take his hand and am tugged into his warm embrace. I  
feel him sniff me gently and my heart melts. "Hi," he whispers in my  
ear briefly, before he spins me out away from him. I smile my full  
happy face at him. This is it, an acknowledgement of something more  
between us. This is what I have dreamt of, to be in the arms of Mulder  
the man, Mulder my man.

Soon, very soon we would continue where we left off in my dreams.

===============================================================================  
"Post-Modern Looking Glass" by Xequinn

This story was downloaded from the Gossamer Project on 3 March 2020.  
Do not archive stories elsewhere without permission from the author(s).  
See the Gossamer policies for more information:  
http://tooms.gossamer.org/local/policies.html  
===============================================================================


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